To Conquer Fear
by Anzie
Summary: Before he was twenty, Regulus Black was murdered by the Death Eaters for his apparent betrayl. Just what led to his death? There was a lot more to the story than Sirius knew... See inside for more details.
1. Default Chapter

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* * *

Title: To Conquer Fear**

**Summary: Before his twentieth Birthday, Regulus Black was murdered by his fellow Death Eaters. According to his older brother, young Regulus got 'cold feet' and was thus killed. But, there was more to the story than Sirius knew. Regulus surely knew what his fate would be, if he defied Voldemort or tried to leave the Death Eaters in any way. So, knowing this, what would have led him to sign his own death warrant? Read the events that led to a young Death Eater's cold feet, betrayl, death.**

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**Prologue: "But a Short Time to Live"**

Regulus Black shook with fear as the wand tip was pointed at his heart. It was all over now; in a second those two words would be spoken and he would know no more. After only sixteen years, his life would be over.

It is amazing how quickly the mind can work; it processes thousands of thoughts, images, phrases, and emotions in a split second. So fast it seems as if all these things might be happening at once, but they can't. First, Regulus was in denial, his mind sure that this couldn't be happening. Then, as realization dawned upon him, he felt the worst sort of fear and he wished to beg for mercy from his assailant – tell her he meant none of it and was full of regret. Next, emboldened with self-righteousness; Regulus would not cower or even flinch. He'd meet death with open arms; they would find no satisfaction hearing his cries. An immeasurably small moment after that, he was angry with himself, the world, Voldemort, Dumbledore, Sirius and everyone else with whom he could find fault.

Finally, Regulus felt acceptance and peace. He would die tonight, but it didn't matter. He would be murdered in cold blood by those he had once called friend, though that didn't matter either. Nothing could change these facts – the wand was at his chest; the murderer was drawing her breath in order to speak the curse. But, Regulus would not have changed any of the events that had led to the current situation. He regretted none of it.

His mind, once again working rapidly as the murderer opened her mouth, went over those wonderful events which had given his mates cause to call him traitor and cast Unforgivables upon him.

* * *

**Chapter one: Guesses, Girls, and Prefects**

It all started in the beginning of Regulus Black's sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The fifteen-year-old wizard got off the train brimming with newly acquired self-assurance, confident that this year would be the best yet.

Regulus, who had always been a sort of shy, flaky person (the result of being boisterous Sirius Black's younger brother), had changed much over the summer. Firstly, he had grown nearly four inches and hopefully would no longer be mistaken for a first year. The Slytherin had also done much better than expected on his OWLs: earning no D's whatsoever and pulling enough high marks to put him in the top fifteen of his year. He'd even been named a prefect after Henry Wellstone had been caught distributing Firewhiskey to some third years.

And finally, the number one reason that the school year of 1979-80 would be Regulus's best: he had received the Dark Mark.

Only a few weeks before returning to school, Regulus's cousin Bellatrix had arrived at Grimmauld Place with an offer to join the ranks of the Dark Lord. At the sight of his parents' proud faces, Regulus accepted eagerly and was given the Mark that night. It had hurt a great deal, but was well worth it. He now went to school with the knowledge that he was on the winning side of the escalating war; that he was a part of something so powerful and dangerous. Any other fifteen-year-old boy would feel just as fearless if he were in Regulus's shoes.

Such was the case when he arrived at the Sorting Ceremony. Regulus's friends gave him some playful ribbing about his appointment to prefect, especially the disgraced Henry Wellstone. Then all of them played the game of 'Guess Who' when the Sorting began. 'Guess Who' was a game invented (allegedly) by Regulus's cousin-in-law, Lucius Malfoy. It involved analyzing the first years and guessing their ancestry– Mudblood, Half-blood, or Pureblood. There really wasn't a way of determining a winner, unless some enterprising player kept a record of the students and the guesses, in which case betting was usually involved. None of the current players, all of them sixth and seventh year boys, had the drive to do something like that. No, the 'fun' of the game was in the players' reasoning behind their guesses.

"Definitely a Mudblood, no self respecting magical parent allows their child to cut his hair that way," declared Henry, looking at the shaggy-haired boy under the hat.

The game, while not overly entertaining or clever, at least occupied them in between clapping loudly for new Slytherins. One had to cheer at a high volume, due to the hissing and booing coming from the other houses.

Finally the Sorting was over, with only seven new Slytherins added to ranks, and the Feast began. The friends' conversation turned to the dull topics of summer holidays and new classes. Phrixus Awergan, a fellow sixth year with looks even more unfortunate than his name, had spent his holiday in Greece. Apparently, it was an excessively boring trip, except for the fact that Greek witches' togas are more appealing than Hogwarts' robes and Phrixus gave a detailed explanation of just _how _much more appealing. This turned the talk to the much more interesting topic of girls, which was all fine and dandy until Roger Derick, unarguably the handsomest boy in Slytherin, opened his big mouth.

"So, Regulus, when are you going to get a little witch of your own?"

As the confidence rushed out of him, Regulus felt his cheeks flush. He was the only sixth year Slytherin who had never taken a girl out, a fact that embarrassed him to no end. True, only Roger had a steady girlfriend, but both Phrixus and Henry had been on a handful of dates. Usually, when Regulus's ineptitude in this area was brought up, he'd sigh and stutter while they teased him mercilessly. But, after a quick glance at his forearm, Regulus recharged his confidence and responded.

"Actually I have found a witch."

"Really?" sneered Roger incredulously. "Who is she, then?"

"Oh, I can't tell you now. She's asked me to wait to make it public until she's broken it off with this lout she's been seeing. Some really horrible, ugly git named Robert or Roger or something like that."

Phrixus and Henry burst out laughing, and even Roger grinned broadly. All three boys congratulated their friend on such a well-performed joke, though Roger told him to 'keep dreaming'. The joke had the effect that Regulus had hoped for; there was no more said of his lack of a girlfriend for the rest of the meal. But later that night, as he stared at the ceiling, Regulus decided that he would remedy that situation this year.

* * *

The first few days of school did not leave one much time to find a girlfriend. NEWT level classes were a lot of work, even though it seemed the professors spent the first twenty minutes of each lesson trying to intimidate students. In addition to the expected essays and class work, many of the professors wanted them to do independent projects in relation to their subjects. Students were supposed to partner up, pick a topic, do a thorough research paper on it, and finally give an educational and engaging presentation on it to the rest of the class.

Though the projects were due sometime in November and December, Regulus needed to get an early start since he was taking five NEWT level classes. He teamed up with Phrixus (a decent student, who wouldn't shirk off his share of work, if only out fear that Regulus might screw it up) for Herbology and Charms, a Slytherin girl named Elvira MacKenzie for Astronomy. But he didn't have anyone yet for Ancient Runes and Defense Against the Dark Arts. None of his fellow Slytherins were in Ancient Runes ( the class had only six students total, and Regulus knew none of them by name) and only Roger accompanied him to Defense. Unfortunately, Roger's girlfriend, Sandy Horton, was also in that class, so they had quickly partnered up, leaving Regulus high and dry.

Thus, Regulus had spent the first two days of his sixth year either in lessons or in the library. He'd never been an overly studious type, but wanted to make better marks this year, especially after his OWL results. And besides, he didn't want to tell the Dark Lord that he couldn't come to a meeting because he hadn't done his Charms homework.

* * *

On Wednesday night, the prefects held their first meeting. Lydia Abercrombie, the other sixth year prefect, led him through the preliminaries. The meeting was held in the west tower, in the floor beneath the owlery. In the large, circular there were four tables arranged in a crude, circular shape. Otherwise, it was rather Spartan, especially compared to the rest of the castle. There were the houses' banners in the fronts of the tables. A calender hung magically on the wall with a battered looking ballot box beneath it, and the place smelled strongly of owls and straw. Regulus was wholly unimpressed.

The six Slytherin representatives sat according years, in between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. This year's head boy was Barty Crouch, a Ravenclaw, and the head girl was Amanda Rutgers from Gryffindor. The meeting started with both of them giving dull, welcoming speeches which thankfully lasted less than a minute. Then the meeting moved onto a sort of roll call/introduction in which everyone rose and said their names. Finally, Crouch said that they would now be called to order and issues brought up.

Amanda Rutgers was the first to speak, "I think we ought to hold this first meeting earlier in the year, perhaps even on the train. For the first two or so days of the year, the new prefects have no idea what their duties are. Therefore, they are essentially like any other student, except they've a pretty badge on their robes. And prefects are especially needed in the first days in order to help with first years. I propose we hold a meeting on the train each year from now on, shall we do secret or open ballot on this?"

"Open," said Crouch, evidently the issue of a vote was not to be debated, "this isn't overly controversial. Any objections? Fine, all in favor raise your hands."

Regulus raised his hand, as did everyone else. Crouch then wrote down the proposal as passed and declared that he would present it to the headmaster when he and Amanda met with him.

The next proposal came from a Hufflepuff seventh year, who announced that Professor Sprout was looking for tutors for Herbology. Apparently, several students had requested assistance and she wondered if the prefects might be able to help. Regulus, who was very good at Herbology (one of his two O's was obtained in that class), volunteered for the task. He was the only Slytherin to do so, and raised the eyebrows of the Hufflepuff who took down the names.

This brought on a rather boring lecture by Crouch on the importance of volunteering, since prefects needed a certain number of volunteer hours in order to retain their prefecture. The seventh years all seemed dismissive about this and looked rather smug, knowing they'd be doing absolutely no volunteering all year, as they couldn't retain their prefecture anyway. It was a nice little loophole that would never change, no matter how many sixth years complained about it.

The meeting dragged on for the next forty-five minutes, Regulus paying little attention. There was a rather heated and somewhat entertaining debate over the usefulness of house points, but it was declared to be a 'faculty issue' by the head girl and ended there. Finally, Crouch announced it was over and the prefects gathered up their things and left in twos and threes. Regulus, who didn't know any of them very well, collected his parchments slowly and didn't notice when the seventh year Hufflepuff approached him.

"Hello," said the Hufflepuff, startling Regulus.

"Er- Hello," Regulus did not know what to make of this boy, who was smiling widely at him. He tried to remember the boy's name, but couldn't recall anything except that it was terribly common and started with an 'e'.

"I just wanted to thank you for volunteering to tutor. I've heard you're rather good at Herbology; Professor Sprout will be pleased."

"Er- you're welcome," Regulus replied, wondering how this boy knew about him and his herbological skills.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that I'll tell you when she's found someone for you to work with. That sound good?"

"Yeah." Regulus found it rather disconcerting to speak with this unknown Hufflepuff, who was a bit too enthusiastic about tutoring for his tastes.

"Great. I'll catch you later." With that, the boy finally exited, leaving Regulus mulling over what 'catch you later' might mean.

* * *

A few days after the prefects' meeting, Regulus had entirely forgotten about volunteering when, after his Herbology lesson, Professor Sprout cornered him in the greenhouse.

"Mr. Black, I must say I am very impressed by your generosity," she said excitedly, looking as though she might burst with happiness. For a moment, Regulus had no idea what she was talking about and he stared at her blankly. "You're such a bright student and I'm sure you'll be a great help to some of those who don't quite grasp the nuances of magical plants."

"Er– yes?" though he now knew what she was talking about – the tutoring – Regulus still didn't know quite how to react. Professor Sprout didn't seem to notice, though.

"I especially admire that you're taking this on in addition to all your other work; I know you've a lot of NEWT classes this year, too. You're really being a fine example to the younger students. And, you know, students like you go on to be Head Boys." She winked at him obviously.

Head Boy? Regulus hadn't even considered that. Though, now that she mentioned it, he did have a one in four chance of getting the position, didn't he? He could just imagine the looks on his parents' faces. . .

"Anyway, I've got the perfect student for you to tutor," Regulus was pulled out of his reverie as the professor continued. "Her name's Elizabeth Simmons. She's in your year; one of my Hufflepuffs. Do you know her, by any chance?"

Regulus racked his brain, but couldn't recall a face, though he was sure he had heard the name before. Truthfully, he didn't know any Hufflepuffs very well and had never had what one could call a conversation with any member of that house. He shook his head apologetically.

"Well, I expect you'll know each other well before the end of the term," Sprout assured him. "She's a bright enough girl– in several NEWT classes, I believe; wants to be a translator for the Ministry. She's no good at Herbology, though she tries, the poor dear. Some people just don't have the knack for it. But, that's no reason to have a dismal grade on your transcript, is it?"

"Right," agreed Regulus, thinking bitterly of his History of Magic class. Though he hadn't done well enough on his OWL to get into the NEWT class (not that he'd want to), Regulus still had to take History once a week and suffer through being called 'Sirius' by that senile old ghost, Binns.

"Yes. I've arranged for the two of you to use the greenhouses on Tuesdays at seven. I usually grade papers then, so I'll be in my office if you need me. Otherwise, you should have them all to yourselves. Is that all right with you?"

"Yes, that should work out well," murmured Regulus. He didn't really have anything to do on Tuesday nights, but it was the day before regular Transfiguration and he usually left that class's monstrous amount of homework until the last minute. He supposed he would have to do that essay on the weekend instead, cancelling his plans to lay about and do nothing with Phrixus, Henry, and Roger.

"Splendid! I can't thank you enough, Regulus. Well, you best be off now. I wouldn't want to make you late for your next class."

Regulus really wouldn't mind being late for his next class, which happened to be Charms, but he simply said goodbye and ambled off, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

* * *

That evening at supper, he told his year mates of the situation, in hopes of getting some advice. Regulus had no experience doing anything remotely close to tutoring. He had never even helped someone with a single homework assignment, as his friends scoldingly reminded him. Thus, he was quite nervous about next Tuesday.

"I just don't know what to do," he complained miserably as he moved the boiled potatoes about his plate. "I've never considered how one teaches or learns for that matter."

"You'll do fine," Phrixus said and this was the most encouraging thing any of them had to say, though even he sounded as though he were more interested in his dinner.

Roger and Henry also seemed indifferent about Regulus's problem. Well, not seemed; they plainly didn't give a bat's wing about it. It was at times like this that Regulus wished he had someone close he could talk to and get advice from. Someone older, with more experience and someone who would care. Like a really close friend, or an older brother . . .

Once upon a long time ago, Regulus had had an older brother. Now, he could barely remember the days when Sirius had been . . . Sirius. Before he'd gone to school, gotten sorted into Gryffindor and stopped loving his family, Sirius had been the perfect older brother.

Regulus had been only seven when the whole Black family had put Sirius on the Hogwarts Express, in the care of their older cousin Bellatrix. He remembered how angry his parents had been when they learned that their eldest son had been sorted into Gryffindor. He remembered the horrible fight Sirius and thier parents had when he came home for Christmas. Their house-elf, Kreacher, had locked Regulus up in his room on orders from his parents, but he could still hear the shouting and cursing coming from the drawing room below.

Nearly every family encounter with Sirius afterward was like that. For the better part of five years, Regulus's older brother came home and filled Grimmauld Place with anger and tension. As he got older, Regulus figured out what the fights were about, by and large– Pureblood superiority and the like. At the time, Regulus found it a rather trivial thing to tear a family apart over.

Following one particularly bitter fight after Regulus's second year, Sirius left the house, and Regulus, for good. But, in truth, Sirius hadn't been part of the family since he came home on that first Christmas break.

Regulus had precious few memories of Sirius from before the boy's first year. But, he did remember a time when his brother was happy with his family. He recalled how Sirius had taught him how to fly a broom, and how to put ink in thier cousins' hair. Regulus remembered how his older brother would read stories to him and how, whenever he had a nightmare, Sirius would sooth him and 'make things all right'. And finally, Regulus remembered how his brother used to love him.

When Regulus began his third year, Sirius was in his sixth. It was the first time he had seen the older boy in months. He had gotten off the train, hoping to see his brother, hoping that, away from the hatred of their parents, Sirius would speak to him and treat him like a brother again. It was a foolish hope. In his final two years at Hogwarts, Sirius did not even acknowledge his younger brother. It was extremely hard on the young Slytherin.

Once or twice, Regulus had contemplated approaching Sirius himself. But, shy and scared, he never did. Sirius was a stranger. He was like all the other big kids – large, arrogant, and intimidating.

Ruefully, Regulus wondered what Sirius would think of him now. He was a Death Eater; one of the people he knew his brother was actively (and foolishly), fighting. Regulus had been vaguely aware that, throughout his childhood, Sirius had resented him slightly, even before he'd gone off to Gryffindor. This resentment stemmed mostly from jealously. Regulus, being a naturally quiet and well-behaved child, was liked by all the adults in their family. However, these same adults admonished and punished the more rambunctious and trouble-making Sirius. But still, then--before Hogwarts--Sirius had loved him. And Regulus wondered sadly if his brother still did.

**TBC**

Anyway, what did you all think? Please, send comments, good, bad, critical, indifferent, in a review!

**Author's Note: **You can kind of see where this story's going, but I've never read anything like it, so hopefully it will be well written and engaging enough to catch your interest. I promise, I've got it all planned out and hopefully you'll enjoy!

I know, I know; I should be working on 'Some Good News', and I am but it's at a tricky spot. No worries, though, chapter seven will be up soon. I've a good deal of it written and all of it planned out.

**Disclaimers:** Anything you recognize belongs to **JKR**, I'm just borrowing. The title of the story comes from a quote by **Bernard Russel** and the title of the prologue is attributed to **Leslie Coulson**.

Next chapter: A Lesson (tentative title)


	2. A Lesson

**Disclaimer: **Hogwarts and all its recognizable denziens belong to Ms. Rowling; I just borrow them for my own (and hopefully your) entertainment.

**Chapter 2 - A Lesson**

Tuesday came more quickly that Regulus expected and, as the day wore on, he became more and more nervous. On the inadvertently helpful advice of Henry ("Why don't you talk to someone who cares?"), he had approached Sprout the day before for more information.

In addition to being frighteningly enthusiastic, even for a Hufflepuff, she had managed to give Regulus some instruction as to how to go about tutoring. He now knew the lesson plans for the regular sixth years and just what Miss Simmons was struggling with. On Monday night, he'd compulsively gone over the appropriate sections in his textbook at least a thousand times. Afterwards, Regulus knew everything there was to know about leukwheat-the plant which the sixth years were studying-but this did not alleviate his nerves.

Driven by a lifelong fear of failure (which most psychologists would probably link to his older brother, from whom many of his problems seemed to originate, damnitall), Regulus had spent every free minute he had in the library. He obsessively went over book, article, and scroll that mentioned leukwheat and even some that didn't (by the end of the day he found himself staring at a back issue of _Witch Weekly_).

It wasn't a terribly complex subject, and he really couldn't see why she was having any difficulty. But, he reminded himself, some people might not see the difficulty in History of Magic. Regulus had yet to meet such a person, but he was reasonably that they were out there. Someone had to write the books.

At quarter till seven, Regulus gathered up his things and left the Slytherin dungeons for the greenhouses. It was chilly outside, but not overly uncomfortable, as the sun was still out and a good distance from the horizon. He didn't know which greenhouse this girl was supposed to be using, so he waited awkwardly in front of number one, glancing around every so often and receiving scrutinizing looks from passerby.

She arrived a little after seven, her bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder, one hand holding a half-eaten scone.

"Sorry, I'm running a bit late," she apologized when they came face to face. "You are Regulus, right? My tutor?"

"Yes," he said, trying to recognize her. There were only about fifty students in their year and, although Regulus was not the most sociable of people, he must have seen her somewhere.

"I'm Lizzy," she held out her scone-less hand and he took it, still trying to place her face. It was proving rather difficult; there was nothing spectacular about her. Her hair and eyes were brown, her face plain and ordinary with a smattering of freckles. Even when she introduced herself, the use of her nickname did not ring a bell. It all made Regulus, who'd been brought up in Polite Society, feel a bit ashamed and embarrassed.

"Well, shall we get started?" No sooner were these words out of her mouth than she was walking in the direction of greenhouse three, taking another bite out of her scone along the way.

The inside of the greenhouse was rather dark and eerie, with the blue light from the non-heated candles casting disconcerting shadows throughout the building.

Regulus followed Lizzy (who didn't seem to be at all unsettled), to a corner table where she set down her things and proceeded to retrieve a rather droopy looking shrub from a nearby shelf.

"Is _that _your leukwheat?" Regulus asked, eyeing the pitiful plant. He regretted his question almost immediately, realizing just how rude it was. However, when he looked over at Lizzy, she did not seem the least bit insulted. In fact, she was grinning at him broadly.

"Pathetic isn't it?" She sounded almost proud. "I've had it less than a week, and it's already dying. If I'd left it alone– not watered it and kept it in a basement or something– it would be better off."

"It's state is rather remarkable." And it was, the pot was full of dead, brown leaves, the few leaves left on the plant were wilted and dull. The entire being looked as though it had just lost a bout with a hippogriff, to say nothing of the flower, which had mysteriously vanished.

"Er– so what do you know about leukwheat?" If Regulus was going to help this girl, he would first have to assess what she needed to learn. That, and figure out just what the hell she'd done to her leukwheat.

"Other than that I'm killing it?" She joked, still smiling. Regulus, who had never been much of a smiler, found his lips moving upward, if not because the joke was funny then because her good humor was contagious. "I know its name and that I supposed to collect . . . the something-I-can't-remember from it when the flower's matured. Other than that, I've got nothing."

Well, thought Regulus, ignorant didn't begin to describe it. He suppressed a sigh and continued with his questioning, trying to be professional and helpful.

"Speaking of the flower, what happened to it? They're supposed to have flowers when they're this mature, correct?"

"If you say so. And it does still have a flower, see?" She leaned in and indelicately grabbed a small, dreary bud that had been concealed amongst the wilting leaves, as if trying to hide. "It had bloomed, but then it saw me and, sensing imminent danger, promptly curled up into this ugly little ball."

Again, Regulus found himself smiling. Even if she was obviously abominable with plants, Lizzy at least had a sense of humor about it. The same could not be said for Regulus and History of Magic.

"I see," he studied the plant carefully, trying to determine what actually was wrong with it. From all that he had read, it didn't seem that this species would be sensitive enough to wilt with the mere presence of a botanically-challenged witch. "What, exactly have you been doing to care for it?"

"Er . . . " she hesitated, looking confused by his question. "I've watered it a few times and kept it in the sun with the others. Isn't that okay?"

Aha, thought Regulus, problem found! "Yes, but there's a bit more to it than just that. What does your textbook say?"

Lizzy took her copy of Magical Herbs and Fungi out of her bag and began to leaf through it, searching for the section on leukwheat. Regulus, knew exactly what the book said, but he didn't want to tell her. It didn't seem very helpful, if he just told her everything and showed her how to do it.

The sound of turning pages stopped, signaling that Lizzy had bound the article. She began to read through it, aloud.

"'Leukwheat or _frutexus niteo _are part of the _Volucredae _family and particularly desirable for their multitude of magical properties. The most popular of these properties, it the luminescent pistil. When mature, the pistil produces a powerful, magical light, which is harvested and used in many magical lighting products. The unique pistils of these plants glow in order to attract baw-bees, the only insect capable of pollinating the leukwheat.' That's all very interesting, but it doesn't tell me at all how to take care of one."

"What family is it from?" Regulus asked, trying, without much success, to sound encouraging.

"The _Volucredae _family," she read, mispronouncing the name horribly.

"Okay, and what do you know about that particular family?"

"Sorry, I'm not very well acquainted with them. Perhaps you could introduce us?"

Regulus actually grinned at that, showing all his teeth. This wasn't so bad, after all . . .

"They have some traits which are unique to their family," he explained, knowing this was not in her text. They all studied plant family traits last year, but evidently Lizzy hadn't absorbed too much. "Specifically, they need more than just light and water to survive. Being luminescent, they do need lots of light– in fact, you might want to put a candle by it at night, if you can charm it not to burn anything. But they also do not absorb minerals from the soil as other plants might. They are insectivores– specifically they eat flying insects, as their name might suggest."

"So they're like Venus flytraps?" Regulus had never heard of a Venus flytrap, but gleaned from its moniker that leukwheats were indeed like flytraps, so he nodded in affirmation. "But how do they catch things? I don't see any mouths." Lizzy leaned down to carefully inspect the plant again, finding nothing but common looking leaves and stems.

"Some members of Volucredae have mouths or things with which they catch their pray," Regulus explained, quoting an exact line from his OWL exam, "but leukwheats don't. Normally, they give off pheromones to draw insects to the soil and force them to bury themselves alive in it. Then, the roots consume the nutrients from the bugs."

"Ew," Lizzy wrinkled her nose at the offensive shrub. "What a murderous little bloodsucker. So what should I do? Put it near the rubbish bins so it can catch more flies?"

"No . . . " Regulus stifled a laugh, thinking of how humorous _that _would look in Madam Hosta's Magical Guide to Horticulture. _Simply place your leukwheat near a festering rubbish bin . . ._ "Actually, this species doesn't eat flies– it eats glow worms. Professor Sprout should have a supply of them somewhere . . ."

"Oh yes, now I remember! She has a tank of them just over there," Lizzy straightened up and cocked her head towards a shelf full of glass cages. There was an entire row of food for the more carnivorous plants; Sprout needed a supply of everything from grubs to small rodents in order to keep all of her charges well fed. "I'd wondered what some of the kids were doing with them . . . " Lizzy made her way over to a tank filled with grass and a few of the luminous insects, Regulus trailing quickly after her.

"So I just grab a few of these little beasties and bury them in the pot and everything's peachy?" She looked over at Regulus inquisitively.

"Not precisely," he said, feeling very tutor-ish. "You should stun a few before you collect them, then just stick them about a half of a centimeter deep into the soil. And the roots will eat them up. They have to be alive, though, so only stun them lightly."

"That's morbid," Lizzy said conversationally, but she had pulled out her wand and was preparing to gather the glow worms. "About how many should I use, d'you think?"

"It's up to you– you should keep a record of how many you feed it each time, though. Professor Sprout said that was part of the assignment."

"That's right. I'll use five this time; I've been starving the poor bugger, after all." Lizzy cast a few stunners, knocking out the insects as they flew about the tank. She then fed the leukwheat (with a disgusted look on her face the entire time), under the careful supervision of Regulus, and recorded the information on her worksheet. And with that, they were done, both feeling quite content with their work.

"Thanks a lot, Regulus," Lizzy said as they left the greenhouse. "You were a big help. And you're really amazing at Herbology; you should look for a career in it or teaching or something."

"Er– you're welcome," Regulus didn't quite know how to react to such a compliment, her words making him inexplicably uncomfortable. "Well, I'll see you next Tuesday, I suppose."

"Hopefully, my plant will still be alive by then. See you later." She turned and went off toward the Hufflepuff rooms. Regulus noticed that she walked very . . . enthusiastically. Whereas most people shuffled or stomped, she walked straight and fast, as if she really wanted to get to where she was going, yet wasn't in a hurry. Regulus found himself standing there, looking after her for longer than was polite. He had to shake himself out of and turned around quickly before he went off in the direction of the Slytherin dungeon.

**TBC **

**Author's note:** Thanks for reading, please review!!

The plant names (all of them) are based on Latin and Old English words, but are otherwise entirely made up by yours truely (with some help from online dictionaries). Sorry this was kind of short. Ch. 3's in the works!

**Nia, swiftydemon,** and **Madam Pudifoot**, thanks so much for your reviews. You guys rock! I'm glad you're enjoying this fic!


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